"My name is—Aeryn."
The word tore through her like lightning.
The moment it left her lips, the forest changed.
The silver moss blackened. The air grew heavy. The soft glow that once shimmered between the trees flickered and died, replaced by something older… something watchful.
The Warden froze.
Not in hesitation—in recognition.
Its molten eyes dimmed to a deep, ancient gold, and it lowered its massive head, not in defeat… but in acknowledgment.
"Aeryn," it rumbled, the name echoing like thunder beneath the earth.
The creature beside her staggered back, its starlight flaring wildly. "No… that's not possible."
But it was.
Because now she remembered.
Not everything—never everything—but enough.
"I sealed it," Aeryn whispered, her voice no longer entirely her own. "I sealed the heart of the Veilwood… and I left."
The ground pulsed beneath her, as if agreeing.
The creature shook its head, its glow dimming with something that looked like grief. "You didn't leave," it said softly. "You ran."
Aeryn flinched.
The Warden stepped aside.
A path opened.
Not made of earth or roots—but of memory. The trees bent away, revealing a narrow passage where the air shimmered like glass. At the end of it, something pulsed faintly—a distant, rhythmic glow, like a heartbeat buried deep beneath the forest.
"The Heart," Aeryn breathed.
And with it came the rest.
A door.
A promise.
A mistake.
"I wasn't supposed to survive," she said, the truth settling like ash in her chest.
The creature stepped closer again, its voice quieter now. "No," it said. "You were supposed to stay."
The Warden let out a low, resonant sound—not anger this time, but warning.
The path would not stay open.
Aeryn looked between them. "If I sealed it… why is it calling me back?"
The creature met her gaze.
"Because seals don't break on their own," it said.
The glow at the end of the path pulsed faster.
Stronger.
Something was pushing back.
Aeryn's pulse matched it, beat for beat.
"Someone opened it," she said.
The creature didn't answer.
It didn't have to.
Another sound rose from the path—soft at first, then growing. Not a roar this time.
A whisper.
Many whispers.
Her name.
Not "Lira."
Not even "Aeryn."
Something deeper.
Something she had not yet remembered.
The creature's light flickered uneasily. "If you go there," it said, "you don't just remember the rest."
Aeryn felt the truth of it before it was spoken.
"You become it again."
The Warden lifted its head, watching.
Waiting.
Aeryn turned toward the path.
Fear twisted in her chest—but beneath it, something steadier began to rise.
Not courage.
Not yet.
Responsibility.
"I already am," she said quietly.
And before she could change her mind—
She stepped onto the path.
The forest inhaled sharply.
The moment her foot touched the shimmering ground, the world shattered into light.
Memories flooded back—fire tearing through the trees, shadows spilling from a broken seal, her own hands glowing as she forced something ancient back into the Heart—
And one face.
Watching her.
Smiling.
Not trapped.
Not defeated.
Waiting.
Aeryn gasped as the vision snapped away.
The path stretched ahead, the pulsing glow now blazing bright.
Behind her, the creature called out—
"Aeryn! If it's who I think it is… you won't be able to seal it alone!"
She didn't turn back.
Because now she knew.
She hadn't failed the first time.
She had been betrayed.
And as the Heart of the Veilwood came into view—cracked, bleeding light into the dark—
Aeryn clenched her fists.
"Then this time," she whispered, "I won't."
The whispers grew louder.
The light flared—
And something inside the Heart began to move.